


Losing My Head Over You

by RocknVaughn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Closeted Character, Dirty Talk, Discrimination, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Luge, M/M, Outing, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span class="u">Losing One’s Head:</span> In luge, it’s when an athlete cannot keep their head up in a high G-force turn, which keeps them from seeing the path ahead clearly.</p><p>In love, it’s to become confused or overly emotional about someone, which pretty much does the same thing.</p><p>This is a story about both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing My Head Over You

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to give big thanks to both [pensive_bodhisattva](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pensive_bodhisattva/pseuds/pensive_bodhisattva) and [Nightfox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox/pseuds/Nightfox) for cheering me on when I thought about giving up on this story. It is because of your encouragement that I was able to make it to the finish line.
> 
> Also, thank you to kitty_fic over on LJ for hosting this fest and for giving me the extra time to get this finished. 
> 
> Author's Note: I tried very hard to get as many details as I could correct (the names of actual BBC commentators, names of other athletes, luge terminology, knowledge of the track, etc.), so please forgive any unintentional error I might have missed by not being an aficionado of the sport or by not being British. Thank you!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! <3

 

OoOoO

**Colin Bryce: Welcome back to the Sanki Sliding Centre here in Rzhanaya Polyana, Russia. I’m Colin Bryce and this is Anna Thompson for BBC One Sports.**

**Anna: Next up at the gate is Arthur Pendragon, Great Britain’s best and brightest hope for its first ever Olympic medal in Men's luge.**

**Colin: That’s right, Anna. The 24-year old Pendragon has been earning the respect of teams all over the world ever since his win at the Junior Worlds in 2008. And with the help of Great Britain’s head coach Darren Kilgharrah and his rather unorthodox teaching methods, he’s been rising up the ranks, gathering a silver medal at the World Championships last year.**

**Anna: Yes, and in fact, after the first run, Pendragon is in first place, holding off the 2010 defending gold medalist, Germany's Felix Loch, by just two tenths of a second.**

**Colin: And here comes Arthur now. With one last word from teammate Merlin Emrys, he gets into position.**

 OoOoO

“Don’t worry, Arthur… You’ve got this,” Merlin whispered in his ear, pulling Arthur into a quick hug and patting at his back vigorously before letting him go. “Go get ‘em,” Merlin urged, flashing Arthur his trademark blinding grin.

Arthur’s mouth smiled back as if on autopilot, but inside his head, Arthur sighed. _Don’t I wish…_ he thought wistfully, thinking not of the race but of his very attractive best friend.

Lowering himself into a seated position on his pod, Arthur marveled at just how far he and Merlin had come from where they began.

 OoOoO

Although it was well known that Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys were the best of friends, they certainly hadn’t started out that way.

Arthur had been the junior team’s Golden Boy, easily racking up win after win on the Junior European circuit. But of course, that had only been expected of him. Arthur’s mother had been an Olympic medalist in figure skating, so athleticism was in his blood. And to continue that legacy in Ygraine’s memory, his father had been training Arthur on the luge since before he could walk.

Merlin had been the upstart, a dark horse that literally came out of nowhere to steal Arthur’s crown at the Junior U.K. Championships…and Arthur had _loathed_ him for it.

Prior to the competition, Merlin had had no formalized training, save for what he’d learned from an ancient trainer named Anhorra Gedref who lived near Merlin’s tiny hamlet of Ealdor.

It had taken no time at all for Coach Kilgharrah to see the boy’s potential and pick up Merlin’s sponsorship, adding him to Great Britain’s roster. Immediately, he had put his two star pupils in the same living quarters. At the time Arthur had thought he was barking mad, but now knew it had actually been brilliantly sly of the cagey coach: Arthur had certainly needed a dose of humble pie and Merlin could really benefit from Arthur's years of experience.

Still, before they had settled into the friendship they both now enjoyed, the arrangement had led to many a savage row: Arthur thought Merlin was a backwater, classless idiot that had more luck than skill, while Merlin believed Arthur was a spoiled, egotistical prat who had only gotten as far as he had by riding on his parents' coattails. In reality though, it was simply that the both of them were exceedingly stubborn and refused to acknowledge the other’s talent.

Their Mexican standoff might have lasted much longer had it not been for Valiant Isle’s attempt at sabotaging Arthur’s sled. Valiant had been on the second-tier roster, having been ousted from first-tier by the addition of Merlin to the team. Apparently, he’d thought that taking out the team’s best slider and setting Merlin up to take the fall for it would be a great way to free a slot for himself.

It was a well-known quirk of Merlin’s that he enjoyed taking runs in the evenings whenever he could, and Valiant used that knowledge to his advantage, sneaking out after the evening meal and into the equipment shed unnoticed. It was lucky that Merlin had experienced an unusual bout of fatigue, because it had ended up saving the day. He’d called it quits after just one evening run and had happened upon Valiant dulling the steel runner on one side of Arthur’s sled. Merlin had wisely decided against confronting Valiant on his own. Even though there was no love lost between Arthur Pendragon and himself, Merlin still hadn’t thought twice about telling Arthur what he’d discovered.

Because of Merlin’s fast thinking and willingness to bring the problem to light, Coach K had been able to catch Valiant in the act and get him banned permanently from the team.

Merlin and Arthur had been fast friends ever since.

OoOoO

Arthur grabbed the handles and took a deep, steadying breath.

 _Not now_ , he warned himself. _Think of the track…only of the track._ But even as he slid himself back and forth and then straightened out his arms for the pull, he couldn't escape his stormy thoughts.

He snapped himself forward sharply and used his spiked gloves to paddle against the icy slope. But even as Arthur lay down and settled his back against the pod, the memories still assuaged him.

 OoOoO

**Colin: And it looks like Pendragon has gotten off to a _great_ start, shaving off another tenth of a second from his first run. **

**Anna (chuckling): Perhaps teammate Merlin Emrys has been teaching him a trick or two.**

**Colin: Could be, Anna. It’s well known on the circuit that Emrys has a particular talent for fast starts.**

 OoOoO

What Merlin had lacked in training, he more than made up for in natural talent. Although weighting less than most luge athletes (he barely skirted the weight limit when he first joined the team, though he’d put on more muscle mass since then), he was otherwise the ideal build: long and lithe and lean. He was also absurdly flexible, his torso almost flat against his legs at the beginning of the pull while his arms snapped him forward at blazing speed.

Arthur had always been in awe of Merlin’s starts. He’d asked Merlin many, many times how he was able to achieve such a fast time out of the gate. Merlin would just shrug and smile coyly, teasing in a poor imitation of Scarlet O’Hara (complete with a hand fluttering at his neck like an invisible fan) that a man had to have some secrets.

His response never failed to make Arthur laugh, but the niggling question remained in the back of Arthur’s mind. He literally spent hours each week at the rowing machine trying to improve his motion but never managed to achieve the whip-like snap of Merlin’s start.

It was almost three years before Arthur stumbled upon Merlin’s secret.

Arthur was due at the track for training that afternoon, but he’d wrenched his shoulder in the gym and Coach K had given him the rest of the day off to keep Arthur from injuring it further. He rolled his shoulder in small circles as he turned the corner of the hallway leading to his room. Arthur frowned at the slow, soothing Musak-like sound issuing from underneath the door of his shared living quarters.

_What the hell?_

To say that Arthur was unprepared for the sight that greeted him would have been an gross understatement. Merlin’s back was to the door, though he was bent in half at the waist. His arse was high in the air, while his head and shoulders were stuffed through his open legs as though Merlin were some kind of human pretzel. In fact, he was currently using his ankles as leverage to push his torso even _further_ through the gap.

“What the bleeding hell are you doing, Emrys?” Arthur had spluttered, his eyes wide with shocked amazement.

Merlin’s upside down head tipped quizzically while his eyes met Arthur’s stunned gaze. “Yoga,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

“Yoga,” Arthur sniffed, recoiling as if the word itself had burned him. “But that’s for girls. Like _ballet-dancing_ girls.”

It was absurd to think that someone who looked like he was playing his own personal game of Twister could have the ability to look affronted, but Merlin certainly did. His lips pursed and his eyes narrowed, and even upside down, Arthur could tell that Merlin was arsed. “Yes. Clearly you’re right,” Merlin replied mockingly, his words positively dripping with sarcasm. “It seems that I forgot my tutu in my haste to get bendy. Perhaps I should rectify that.”

He unfolded himself and turned towards Arthur, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow arched with annoyance.

Arthur put his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Hey, to each their own,” he said placatingly. “I was just…surprised is all.”

Merlin stared at Arthur for a long moment and Arthur did his best not to fidget under the judging gaze. Finally, Merlin shrugged one shoulder and crossed the room to turn off the stereo. “You’ve always wanted to know how I’m able to get such a fast start at the gate. _This_ is how I do it.”

“With _yoga_?” Arthur asked, nonplussed. “ _That’s_ your big secret?”

“Yep.” Merlin nodded smugly. “Still think it’s just for girls?”

Arthur stared at Merlin, considering. _What Merlin had been doing when he’d walked in looked utterly_ ridiculous _…but if it could really help him with his starts, then…_

Merlin laughed at the overly-serious look on Arthur’s face.

“What?” Arthur spluttered crossly. “I’m thinking!”

“Don’t break anything in there,” Merlin teased with a cheeky grin as he lightly rapped his knuckles on Arthur’s forehead.

Arthur waved off Merlin’s hand irritably. “All right. Fine, fine. I’ll do it. Just…don’t tell anybody about this, you got it?” he insisted sternly, pointing an imperious finger at his friend’s face.

Instead of being intimidated, Merlin just chuckled some more. “What? Are you afraid I’m going to take a photo of you doing ‘Downward-Facing Dog’ and post it up on Twitter?”

“Downward-Facing _what_?” Arthur spluttered.

“Never mind, Arthur.” Merlin smiled at him in a way that made Arthur’s knees go week. He grabbed Arthur by the elbow and pulled him deeper into the room. “We’ll work up to it.”

 OoOoO

 _Turn One: right. Turn Two: right. Turn Three: left,_ Arthur droned in his head as his body’s muscle memory made the necessary minute adjustments automatically.

Obeying without question regardless of the state of his thoughts…that was something Arthur was more than used to by now.

 OoOoO

There had never been any doubt in Arthur’s mind that he was gay. It had never really been a question for him, no matter how much his father insisted otherwise.

Uther made excuse after excuse, insisting that Arthur’s predilections were simply a result of being around nothing but men for weeks on end during training. Of course, he reasoned, all those burgeoning teenage hormones had to go _somewhere_.

Whenever Arthur was home, Uther went out of his way to introduce him to pretty daughters of business associates or escort one to yet another black-tie fundraising event. They had generally been quite pleasant (except that evil witch Vivian Royale…she’d been an absolute nightmare), but he never felt anything for them. Those evenings always seemed interminably long, trying so hard to be the consummate gentleman for his ‘date’, all while trying to keep his eyes from straying to some hot waiter’s inevitably perfect arse.

The one exception to that rule had been Mithian Nemeth. She had sussed out almost immediately that Arthur was gay and then the evening had passed most agreeably as they pointed out the hottest guys in the room to each other and giggled over their champagne glasses.

His father had remained in denial until Arthur was almost seventeen and had been caught in the midst of a passionate encounter with the sports trainer’s aide in the equipment room at Salt Lake City. After forcing Arthur’s lover to sign a confidentiality agreement and paying him a hefty sum of money to ensure his silence, Uther had pulled Arthur into his study and shut the door.

“You cannot be gay,” Uther told Arthur like he was laying down an edict.

“But I _am_ gay, Father,” Arthur insisted. “I’ve been telling you that for years.”

“You misunderstand me,” Uther went on. “I am not speaking of your _preferences_. I am speaking about _reality_. You are training to be an Olympic athlete. You cannot be gay.”

“What does one have to do with the other?”

“How do you think your training gets _paid_ for, Arthur?”

“From you,” Arthur spat out bitterly. “Lord knows you tell me that often enough.”

Uther pinched the bridge of his nose as if stemming off a headache. “Fine. Perhaps you’re right,” he acquiesced. “But what about your teammates? Who foots the bill for them? Who pays the trainers and the coaches, pays for time at the training facilities?”

Arthur shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Fundraising, Arthur. Your Olympic team is almost entirely funded by sponsors. And, like it or not, you are the most visible face on that team.”

“But…Adam Rosen…?”

“…is good but is never going to bring home a medal. Fundraisers are pinning their hopes on _you_ and this new generation of sliders that Great Britain is training.”

Arthur crossed his arms across his chest petulantly. “I still don’t see what any of this has to do with my being…”

Uther’s voice cut across his own. “You being openly gay will hurt our fundraising efforts significantly.”

“Why? It’s not like being gay is a crime, Father.”

“Nor is it universally accepted. Like it or not, it’s the way of the world, Arthur. Sponsors are not going to want to tie themselves or their products to a _gay_ Olympian. It’s too risky.”

“I can’t stop being gay simply because it’s inconvenient,” Arthur insisted.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m simply saying that there can be no more _incidents_.”

Arthur brought shaking hands up to cover his face, not wanting his father to see the hot tears that were threatening to fall. Having his father classify his first loving encounter with another man as an _incident_ cut more deeply than he was willing to admit.

Once Arthur had brought his emotions back into check, he lifted his head and stared at his father with dull, lifeless eyes. “So, what then? Will I simply have to abstain, or will a fake girlfriend have to be added to this charade?”

Uther rubbed his chin with a thumb and forefinger as if considering a business proposal. “Perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially in light of your recent activities. It would certainly halt any possible rumors in their tracks.”

“Father…I was being sarcastic.”

“What about that Nemeth girl?” Uther continued as if Arthur hadn’t spoken, “You seemed to like her well enough.”

“That’s because she knew I was gay!”

“Even better. No unreasonable expectations on her part.”

Arthur felt his cheeks burning bright red in horror. “Father, no!”

“I’m sure with the right incentive she could be persuaded to help you.”

Arthur closed his eyes in mortification and sighed.

In the end, Mithian had been recruited to portray his on-again, off-again girlfriend up until the time she graduated from University (although thankfully she had refused payment of any kind to do so). She told Arthur that just being able to spend time with him and be his friend without having to worry about giving out the wrong impression had been more than enough enticement.

She was engaged to be married now, but they still remained good friends.

 OoOoO

**Colin: Wow, look at that split! Even after the uphill slope on curve six, Pendragon has gained another tenth of a second. If he can keep up this pace, Pendragon will be setting himself up as the one to beat in day two!**

 OoOoO

They say that sometimes things come on gradually, that you’re not even aware of the attraction as it’s building. And to a certain extent, that was true with Arthur’s attraction to Merlin.

At first, it had been just a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever Merlin grinned at him in that special way that was only for Arthur.

But then he noticed the grace of Merlin’s movement when he walked, the mischievous twinkle in his cerulean eyes, his long, nimble fingers...fingers that Arthur longed to have touch him, stroke him, caress him in ways that had nothing to do with friendship.

After a while, Arthur realized that he had an unfortunate tendency to stare at Merlin’s arse. Arthur’s dick applauded this course of action and always sprouted at least a half-chub in support (which was distressingly often) anytime he laid eyes on those pert, round buttocks.

Not long after that, Arthur clamped down on his obviously growing attraction to his roommate. After all, it was quite possible that Merlin was straight and he didn’t want to ruin their close and easy friendship with blind lust.

But the uneasy equilibrium Arthur had achieved went right out the window on Boxing Day 2011.

They’d been at the training centre at Lillehammer that year, along with several other up-and-coming Olympic hopefuls from countries all over Europe.

When they’d been given the Christmas weekend off, Arthur jetted off to England to spend time with his father for the holidays while Merlin stayed at the facility, as he always did.

Since they’d been training together since they were seventeen; by now, Arthur knew the drill. Merlin couldn’t afford the airfare home and no matter how many times Arthur had offered Merlin refused to accept charity from him or anyone else. He was determined to make his way on his own as much as he could.

Merlin’s mother worked three jobs just to keep him in the Olympic program. But it was clear that Merlin did not squander the opportunity he was being given. He was usually the last one off the track at night and the first one on it in the morning. And he seemed to have an affinity with the ice and sled, a natural grace and understanding of the nuances, the tiny movements that could make the difference between first place and fourth. If only he could maintain his focus better during the runs, he'd be even better than Arthur.

OoOoO

As Arthur turned his key in the lock, he shook his head, tired and more than weary both mentally and physically. Every time he went home, Arthur foolishly carried the hope that _this_ time, home would be different.

It never was.

As always, his father seemed far more concerned about ‘Arthur the Olympic hopeful’ rather than ‘Arthur the son’. His questions at the dining table centered not on Arthur’s cares or concerns, but rather his training regimen, how and what he was eating, and whether he was sleeping enough.

And, of course, Uther had all kinds of _advice_ to give Arthur: how to pull harder or control his sled better… Arthur got enough of that from Coach Kilgharrah; he didn’t need to hear it when he got home as well.

Arthur had put up with his father’s treatment for years; tried to be the dutiful son and work harder just to please him. But this time he realized the painful truth: there _was_ no pleasing his father…not until an Olympic gold medal sat on its plinth in Uther’s office.

They’d had a fantastic row over Christmas dinner about it, and Arthur had packed his bag and taken the first flight back to Lillehammer the next morning. And, as much as Arthur hated to admit it, he wasn’t going to miss his father. He’d take Merlin and his sunny smile and his happy-go-lucky outlook over his father’s dour frowns and faint praise any day. Merlin just had this way of pulling Arthur out of any funk and carrying him along in the wake of Merlin’s optimism and enthusiasm. He sorely needed that right now.

He pushed open the door to their suite and called out, “Merlin?” once before he heard it.

Grunting. Groaning. Bedsprings creaking rhythmically. The telltale slap of skin on skin.

_Well, shit._

Arthur looked at the bag in his hand and then at the open door behind him, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. In all the years they’d been roommates, Merlin had never, _ever_ brought company home before…or at least not _that_ kind of company. It was to the point that Arthur had just sort of assumed that Merlin was some kind of eunuch. Obviously, he’d been wrong.

And now, Arthur had no idea what to do. It was Boxing Day, so anything on site that would be available to the U.K. teams would be closed. And frankly, Arthur was already too miserable to even _consider_ sitting out in the hall, seeing as the halls were unheated.

So, with a shake of his head at his horrific luck, Arthur decided he would just have to wait Merlin out on the sofa. It would be embarrassing for at least one of them once Merlin realized Arthur was there, but there was nothing else for it.

Arthur quietly set his bag on the floor where he stood and twisted the door handle as he shut it so that it would close without a sound. He toed off his trainers and padded silently toward the living room, trying keep his eyes averted from the open bedroom door and tried in vain to tune out the escalating noise.

He’d nearly made it to relative safety of the high-backed sofa when Merlin lust-sodden voice suddenly moaned, “Oh God, yes! Harder, faster!” Arthur’s eyes shot up at the sound…and then went as wide as saucers as his mouth dropped open in complete shock at the sight before him.

Merlin wasn’t just having sex; he was having sex with a _man_. Arthur’s heart thrummed wildly in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. Merlin was gay. All this time, Arthur had struggled against his attraction to Merlin thinking his friend was straight, and he’d been gay all along.

Arthur meant to turn his eyes away to give Merlin the privacy he deserved, but instead he found himself rooted the spot, transfixed by what he was seeing. Merlin wasn’t just having sex; he was taking it up the arse while he and his partner were arranged in a position he could only imagine appearing in some tantric gay sex book.

Merlin’s lover stood at the foot of the bed in three-quarters relief, so that Arthur could only make out miles of bare golden skin topped by a messy head of blond hair. Wide hands clutched Merlin’s arse and hips, pulling them toward him as he snapped forward, his naked muscles rippling and buttocks clenching with each forceful thrust.

But as opposed to his lover, Merlin’s body was completely exposed to Arthur’s view. While Arthur had seen him naked before (as was only natural since they were roommates), it had never been in this context. His skin, smooth and unblemished, was alabaster white except for the swath of pink upon his high cheekbones and flush down his neck and chest. His toned body was more muscular and defined than Arthur would have surmised, even after having seen him nearly every day in his track suit. Merlin’s arms and legs were liberally peppered with fine dark hair, but only a small patch dusted the area between his pebbled nipples. And the flexibility that was only hinted at on the course was displayed in full now.

Only Merlin’s head and shoulders touched the bed as his body stretched up at an almost impossible angle, his long, lithe legs trailing up his partner’s body until they crossed at the ankle behind his neck. With each of his lover’s thrusts, Merlin’s body arched like a taut bow, left hand braced against the bed while his right stripped his long cock at a feverish pace. His eyes were shut tight but his mouth gaped open, slack with pleasure, while tiny grunting pants of “oh, oh, oh” punctuated each stroke.

The blond man turned his head to nip at the inside of Merlin’s calf, and once Arthur could see the man’s profile, he recognized him as a driver from the Danish bobsleigh team, which was also training in Lillehammer.

Suddenly, Arthur realized that he was still standing there watching his best friend have sex like a creeper of epic proportions. Fast on the heels of that realization was that he was also rock hard and throbbing inside his pants…and in danger of coming right then and there.

Appalled by his own behaviour, he ducked his head guiltily and lowered himself onto the sofa, obscuring himself from view of the bedroom doorway.

But just because he couldn’t see Merlin didn’t mean he couldn’t hear him, his panting turning to moaning as the pace sped up, then keening, and finally wailing as he went over the edge into orgasm.

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Arthur gritted out between clenched teeth, the heel of his palm pressed hard against the base of his cock the only thing keeping him from coming himself. He could just make out the groan of Merlin’s lover over his own harsh breathing, indicating that he, too, had found release.

After that, it was quiet for several minutes, save for the gasping breaths coming from the bedroom and Arthur’s own racing heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Finally, Arthur heard the bed springs creak and someone padded across the floor to the bathroom. Arthur heard water running in the sink for a moment and then shut off before the footsteps returned to the bedroom. Sotto-voiced, Merlin murmured something unintelligible and the unfamiliar cadence of the other man’s voice responded.

Arthur curled up into a miserable ball of self-pity. While he certainly didn’t begrudge Merlin finding love and satisfaction, it pained Arthur to know that he’d never been free to seek the same and had no idea when that might change.

OoOoO

**Colin: Pendragon is certainly taking a fast track on this run. I’ve never seen him run so loose; he’s usually much more cautious on his second heat. Wow, look at his height on the wall on curve ten! If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost lost his head there, Anna.**

**Anna: It might be a bit of a wild ride, but it doesn’t seem to be hurting his time any, Colin. At the split, he’s still faster than his last run by two tenths of a second.**

OoOoO

The first few moments after Merlin showed his date to the door and then discovered Arthur’s bag sitting there were probably the most excruciatingly humiliating of Arthur’s life.

Merlin had turned bright red, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, stammered a bunch of half-vocalized words and then walked over and plopped himself onto the sofa next to Arthur with his head buried in his hands.

“God,” Merlin mumbled in mortification, “you must hate me.”

“What?” Arthur said, genuinely stunned out of his own misery.

“You know, for the whole…being gay thing.”

“Why would I hate you for that?” Arthur tentatively placed a soothing hand in the center of Merlin’s back.

“Well, you… I mean, you…You have Mithian and all…”

Arthur’s conscience cringed at his need to lie about his own homosexuality when Merlin had just unintentionally exposed his own. “Actually,” he admitted quietly, “we’re not together anymore.”

Merlin’s head shot up and his eyes softened in sympathy. “Oh,” he said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an amicable parting.”

“Shit. When did this happen?”

“A couple of months ago. It’s fine, really.”

Merlin studied Arthur’s face dubiously. “You don’t look fine; in fact, you look a bit peaky.”

Arthur brooded darkly, “Yeah, but my father’s to blame for that.”

“Oh,” Merlin responded flatly, his mouth pulled into a thin, disapproving line. It had never been much of a secret that Merlin was not Uther Pendragon’s greatest fan. “That figures. Is that why you’re back early, then?”

Arthur nodded glumly.

“You wanna grab a pint or twelve and tell me about it?”

“Where?” Arthur protested. “All the British facilities are closed today.”

Merlin put a finger along the side of his nose and winked. “You have much to learn, young Padawan. Let me show you the ways of the Force.”

Arthur laughed and let himself be pulled to his feet by his arm.

As Merlin shrugged into his coat, he turned back to look at Arthur. His face blossomed with a fragile, tentative hope. “Arthur, are we going to be okay?”

Arthur’s lips quirked into a smile. “Yeah. We’re going to be okay.”

Merlin’s eyes glowed with happiness as his lips curled into that blinding smile that was all Arthur’s and never failed to make his breath catch.

“Brilliant,” Merlin beamed.

OoOoO

And that was the moment.

That was the very _second_ when Arthur had subconsciously fallen in love with his best friend. And he’d spent every waking moment of the past two years denying it to himself.

Until now.

“ _Fuck_ …” Arthur breathed aloud, barely a whisper under his face shield as he careened around curve fourteen and barreled toward fifteen’s uphill blind turn leading into the labyrinth.

 _He was in love with Merlin. Really, truly in love with him. Like head-over-heels in love with him. Like the_ ‘Let’s buy a house and get a dog and adopt two kids and be together forever’ _kind of in love with him. How had he never seen this before? How had he never realized?_

OoOoO

**Colin: Pendragon’s just come scorching out of curve fifteen. The uphill grade didn’t seem to slow him down at all and he’s taking curve sixteen so fast and…Oh my God, Pendragon’s just lost his head coming into curve seventeen in the labyrinth! Look at him; he’s struggling at this point just to keep his head from hitting the ice, and he’s running so high! How is he even staying on his sled?**

**Anna: Yeah, he just hurtled out of seventeen toward the finish line like he’d been launched from a slingshot and miraculously is still only off his last run’s time by one tenth of a second.**

**Colin: He’s got to be shaken up over that close call, Anna. Still, Pendragon manages to hang on to his lead over Loch, despite a wild and wooly second heat here at Sanki.**

OoOoO

As he pulled his sled to a stop on the hill, Arthur felt numb.

In the back of his mind, he dimly realized he’d narrowly avoided a crash, but all he could think about was Merlin. _What the hell was he going to do?_

After he and his sled had been weighed and Arthur’s run had been cleared by officials, one of the assistant trainers approached him. “Are you all right?” Elyan asked Arthur with a shake to his arm. “What happened back there?”

“I’m okay,” Arthur protested, feeling mentally weary and desperately craving a quiet place where he could just _think_. “I just…I’m going to go to the locker room now, if that’s all right.”

Elyan nodded, letting go of Arthur’s bicep. “Of course,” he said, stepping aside. “I understand.”

 _No_ , Arthur thought to himself moments later as he pushed the locker room door open. _You really, really don’t._

OoOoO

Arthur dropped onto the bench and took off his spiked gloves, placing them beside him on the seat before he threaded his fingers into his hair and tugged hard at the roots.

 _Why? Why here and why now? And what the hell was he going to do? Because, forget about the fact that Merlin probably believed that Arthur was straight; Arthur literally had no idea if Merlin could even care for him that way, let alone love him. But all of that was moot. Arthur wasn’t out, Arthur wasn’t_ coming _out, and moreover, Merlin was taken._

Arthur was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of Merlin’s name. Above his head, a television was showing the BBC’s live broadcast of the race.

OoOoO

**Anna: And here comes an uncharacteristically grim Merlin Emrys to the gate. He’s usually all smiles. One has to wonder if he’s heard the news about his teammate’s near crash in the labyrinth.**

**Colin: Could be. Emrys and Pendragon have been training partners for years under Coach Kilgharrah and are reported to be close friends.**

**Anna: He looks fierce. Determined. Like he’s got something to prove.**

**Colin: Well, all the talk in these Games has been centered around whether Pendragon might be able to bring home a medal for Great Britain. But even with all the hoopla surrounding his teammate, Emrys is quietly sitting in a very respectable sixth place. If can he correct a couple of minor steering choices he made in the first heat, he very well could be in medal contention.**

**Anna: Well, we’re about to see whether that quiet resolve can translate itself into a fast run.**

**Colin: And there’s that trademark Emrys start. I’ve never seen a faster snap than his, even from former gold medalists.**

**Anna: Well, the time at his first split definitely shows it…nearly two tenths of a second under the next fastest start.**

**Colin: And now we’ll see what changes Emrys might have made to his choices from his first run, since the middle of the course is where he seemed to struggle the most last time, but—Ooh, wow, he’s following a much lower, more direct line this time around!**

**Anna: And look at that split! If Emrys can maintain the line he’s on, we might be looking at a new course record.**

**Colin: Yes, Emrys is on fire, shaving yet another tenth of a second off at the third split. And here he comes up and into the labyrinth, and what a great line! Such an improvement over his last heat, and…he’s over the finish line.**

**What an _astounding_ run by Merlin Emrys! Easily the fastest of his career. And he’s set a new course record, coming in at a blistering 52.076 seconds! That run leapfrogs Emrys into third place in the standings behind his teammate Arthur Pendragon and Germany’s Felix Loch. Could we be looking at _two_ medalists on the podium for Great Britain? Tune in tomorrow to find out!**

OoOoO

At some point during Merlin’s run, Arthur had gotten to his feet, although he had no idea when. Arthur was still staring at the television screen when the door to the locker room was shoved open so hard that it slammed into the wall behind it.

Merlin stalked in with the fury of an avenging angel, ripping off his spiked gloves and chucking them blindly across the room. “What the hell was that!?” Merlin demanded as he poked Arthur in the chest with one bony finger.

Arthur blinked several times, still a bit shaken from his epiphany as well as bewildered by Merlin’s attitude. “What the hell was what?”

“That run!” Merlin pointed in the general direction of the course and then started pacing back and forth in front of Arthur agitatedly. “That crazy, wild, recklessly dangerous run! You could have _died_ , riding the walls that high! It was stupid and careless and you’re _never_ like that. What the hell were you _thinking_?”

 _ **I was thinking about you.** Arthur wanted to say it _ so _badly, but he knew he couldn’t. Not now, when he knew Merlin was already happy with someone else…_

 _It figured. It_ fucking _figured. He's finally come to the realization that he was in love and that he’d found the perfect person for him, but he figured it out too late to do anything about it. It wasn’t fair._

Irrational anger and jealousy raised a flush in his cheeks. “What do you mean _me_?” Arthur demanded indignantly, grateful to have an outlet for his emotions. He pointed at the television screen suspended from the ceiling behind him for emphasis. “What about _you_? You mean to tell me that _your_ run wasn’t reckless? You just demolished the damn course record, for fuck’s sake!”

Merlin raised his chin stubbornly. “No, it wasn’t reckless…it was _focused_. You know…that thing that Coach K is always harping on me about? He’s always told me that I just needed the proper motivation; well I sure as hell found it! After you almost killed yourself up on that hill, I needed to get down here to _you_ as quickly as possible. And the only way I was going to do that was to find the ideal line of the track, so that’s what I did. ”

“And you still didn’t answer my question.” Merlin eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, crowding Arthur into backing up one step, and another, and then another, until he was pinned between Merlin’s body and the wall. “What in the hell made you lose your head?” Merlin ground out between gritted teeth.

Arthur shivered, simultaneously feeling cold from the concrete and heat from Merlin’s body pressed against his. He could feel the emotions building inside of him, the words clamouring to get out…

Merlin grasped Arthur’s biceps and shook him hard. “Tell me!” he demanded.

“You,” Arthur confessed, his eyes clinging to Merlin’s sharp cheekbones, his luscious lips…and then suddenly words just weren’t enough to convey all he needed to say. He launched himself forward as if out of the starting gate and ground his lips against Merlin’s desperately.

Arthur could feel Merlin’s hesitation, his shock, the downright astonishment that had Merlin’s mouth gaping like a fish against his own, but then Merlin’s arms wrapped around Arthur’s shoulders like steel bands and he was kissing Arthur back enthusiastically.

Arthur threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck and yanked at it to pull him even closer, which knocked Merlin off balance. They collapsed against the wall in a clumsy tangle that forced a surprised “Oomph” out of Arthur’s lungs as they clung to one another to stay upright.

Merlin broke the kiss in a burst of delighted laughter, his eyes twinkling and his head tipped back against the wall.

Arthur couldn’t resist licking a wet path up the column of Merlin’s neck, and Merlin moaned in response.

“Jesus, Arthur…” Merlin panted, angling his head to give Arthur even better access. “Where did all _this_ come from? I thought you were straight!”

“Hell, no,” Arthur said against Merlin’s skin as he ground his hard cock into Merlin’s hip.

“But…but…Mithian?” Merlin stammered in aroused confusion.

“Beard,” Arthur replied succinctly as he sucked against the spot where Merlin’s neck joined his shoulder.

“Really?” Merlin squeaked.

“Mmhmmm…” Arthur hummed as he ghosted his knuckles over the bulge in Merlin’s track suit.

“Shit!” Merlin gasped, his hips hitching forward against Arthur’s hand. “Then why didn’t you say anything? You knew…you knew…” Merlin stuttered, as Arthur opened his hand to palm him, “After that Christmas…You knew about me…”

Arthur’s movement stilled. _That Christmas…God, in the haze of his giddy triumph of Merlin's response to him, he’d almost forgotten. Merlin was already taken._

It was as if someone poured a bucket of ice water over him. His heart exploded in pain and it took every ounce of willpower Arthur had to push Merlin away from him. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, squeezing his eyelids shut to hold back the tears that burned behind them. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…”

Merlin’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What shouldn’t you have, Arthur?”

“This,” Arthur whispered painfully, motioning back and forth between them with his hand. “I shouldn’t have done it. I know you’re with someone…”

Merlin stared at Arthur incredulously. “What the hell are you on about?”

“Sven…” Arthur croaked, trying to swallow around the huge lump of misery in his throat.

Merlin was silent for a long moment as his brow wrinkled in thought. Finally, he said, “You mean _Soren_? From the Danish Bobsleigh team?”

Arthur nodded miserably.

Merlin rolled his eyes and shook his head in denial. “I’m not in a relationship with Soren, Arthur. That was a one-off!”

It was Arthur’s turn to look nonplussed. “But…”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Merlin used one hand to gesture toward his very obvious erection. “I’m more than a little bit attracted to _you_.”

“You looked pretty into him at the time,” Arthur accused with a disgruntled pout.

Merlin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Because he looked like _you_ , you massive pillock! I’ve been in love with you for years! How did you not know this? I thought _everybody_ knew…”

Arthur felt dizzy with joy and more than a little wrong-footed. “Uh…”

Merlin smiled and stepped back into Arthur’s embrace. “Are you done being jealous now?” he teased, smoothing Arthur’s hair away from his forehead tenderly.

“Are you sure that was just a one-off?” Arthur asked, trying to sound like he was kidding and only partially succeeding. “Because you two seemed pretty well, um… _attuned_ to each other.”

Merlin goggled at Arthur and then began to chuckle. “Just how much of that encounter did you see, Arthur?”

Arthur blushed beet red and stammered, “Um…well…”

Merlin leaned in and brushed his lips against Arthur’s. “Did you enjoy the show, then?”

“Oh, well I…”

“Did it give you any ideas?” Merlin interrupted, playfully licking a drunken path up Arthur’s neck with his tongue.

“Ohh, ahhh…” Arthur answered incoherently.

“A _lot_ of ideas?” Merlin’s teeth grazed against the shell of Arthur’s ear.

“Ngh…”

“Did watching me make you hard, Arthur?” Merlin whispered filthily and then ground his palm against Arthur’s straining cock.

“ _Fuck…_ ” Arthur moaned, sagging against the wall. “Yes, yes,” the admission torn out of him. “All of it, yes!”

Merlin nodded in smug satisfaction. “Good. Glad I’m not the only one arse-over-tits around here.”

“No,” Arthur admitted, pecking a fond kiss to Merlin’s nose. “You’re definitely not.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that was your second run of the day,” Merlin remarked in a mock-innocent tone.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because this doesn’t feel at all aerodynamic.” Merlin pressed the heel of his hand against the hard line of Arthur’s cock again, forcing yet another tortured groan from him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop teasing me, you damned tart!”

“You love it,” Merlin answered saucily.

“Yeah, I do…but not where anyone could just walk in on us.”

Merlin immediately sobered. “Oh, shit. Yeah.”

He stepped back to put a more normal amount of space between them. “So…” Merlin paused, a bit shy and awkward now, “you said that wild and crazy run was because of me?”

Arthur nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I’d finally realized that I was in love with you and I thought it was too late.”

Merlin took half a step forward before he remembered that there was a reason why they were standing that far apart. “Don’t ever do anything like that to me again, Arthur,” he said vehemently. “I mean it. You had me scared to death when you lost your head in the labyrinth. I was afraid you were going to go careening off the track and then you’d never know how much you meant to me.”

Merlin reached out a hand toward Arthur. Wordlessly he took it, grasping it and giving it a squeeze to reassure Merlin that he was alive and well and he planned on staying that way.

“Once I admitted to myself that you were the one I wanted, I didn’t know how I was going to go on without you,” Arthur admitted, rubbing a thumb over and over Merlin’s knuckles.

“Well, now you don’t have to,” Merlin said with a smile before giving their clasped hands a tug. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I think you and I have some unfinished business to attend to.” He tilted his head and his smile turned cheeky. “Perhaps if you’re lucky, we can pretend it’s Boxing Day again…”

Arthur groaned as a flood of very erotic memories engulfed him. “Dear God. You drive me absolutely _insane_ , Emrys,” he whined, letting his head fall back against the wall with a clunk.

Merlin grinned sunnily. “Right back atcha, Pendragon.”

“Still,” Arthur mused, “I think that Boxing Day will have to wait, what with all the super-secret spy cameras in all the bedrooms.”

Merlin shrugged. “Might give all those FSB officers a thrill, though…”

Arthur reluctantly dropped Merlin’s hand to shove himself away from the wall. “Or it might get us locked up for being ‘subversive’. Personally, I’d rather not chance it.”

“Fair point.”

Arthur gathered up his things and tucked them into his duffel while Merlin took the hint and did the same. Once Arthur had all his things packed and his libido firmly under control, he slung the strap of the bag over his shoulder and asked Merlin, “You ready?”

Merlin nodded solemnly and fell into step beside Arthur. In a deceptively neutral tone, he said, “We’ll save anything that requires a bed for when we get out of Russia, then,” as if they were discussing the weather instead of possibly illegal and definitely illicit activities.

Arthur nearly choked on his own saliva. “Yeah. Good idea.”

A long pause stretched out between them.

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek self-consciously. “So…I take it Mithian was your father’s idea?”

Arthur pulled open the locker room door and scooted through the opening. “Yeah,” he said over his shoulder. “He thought my being a _poof_ would hurt fundraising for the team,” Arthur drawled sarcastically.

Merlin rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Of course he would. Typical Uther.”

He waited for Merlin to catch up to him before he mused, “Although I have to admit that, for a fake girlfriend, Mith wasn’t half bad.”

Merlin raised both eyebrows skeptically. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. She was smart and funny and beautiful. In fact, now that I think about it, she was kind of ideal. Couldn’t ask for better, really.”

Merlin scowled and gave Arthur a death glare as he harrumphed his displeasure.

Arthur shoved his shoulder against Merlin’s playfully and added, “You know…other than the whole ‘not having a penis’ thing…”

Merlin blushed and shook his head sheepishly, belatedly realizing that Arthur was just teasing him.

The shuttle bus back to the Olympic Village was waiting for them when they arrived at the stop. One of the sliders from the Swiss team recognized Merlin as they climbed in and said, “Great run, Emrys,” and patted him on the arm in encouragement.

“Thanks,” Merlin murmured self-consciously. An embarrassed blush stole up his cheeks and coloured the tips of his ears.

OoOoO

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur and Merlin got off the shuttle and started walking up the path towards their shared living quarters.

“Mith was right about one thing, though,” Arthur continued more seriously.

“About what?”

“She told me years ago that you were gay.”

Merlin couldn’t hide his surprise. “She did?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “She apparently has an amazing gay-dar; she had me figured out almost immediately.”

“Oh yeah?” Merlin questioned amiably. “Well, hers is better than mine then, because you certainly had _me_ fooled.”

Arthur paused, and then confessed, “I didn’t believe her, of course. About you.”

“Naturally, since you’re a clotpole.”

“Oi!” Arthur protested.

“Well, it’s got to be true, because, I’m sorry; I think I was pretty fucking obvious.”

Arthur smiled at that.

“Mithian also said she thought we’d make a good couple,” he admitted.

“I knew I always liked her!”

Arthur had the audacity to laugh. “Yeah, sure you did…” Arthur snorted. “Fifteen minutes ago, you were ready to rip her hair out and now she’s your favorite person.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Merlin protested. “ _You_ were jealous of Soren…”

“Damn right, I was…” Arthur muttered under his breath.

“Well, that was only one time. You dated Mithian for _five fucking years_ , Arthur. Imagine how I felt! I think I earned the right to hate her when she had what I wanted.”

“But she didn’t have me, though,” Arthur pointed out reasonably.

“Yeah, well I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do.”

Merlin stopped walking abruptly and stared at Arthur.

“Have me, I mean…” Arthur clarified, confused by Merlin’s reaction.

Merlin looked up and down the deserted street before dragging Arthur into the narrow alleyway between their building and the next and snogging him until they were both breathless and panting.

“Thank goodness for that,” Merlin wheezed, leaning his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone when they finally came up for air.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed, bussing a kiss onto the top of Merlin’s head.

Merlin looked up at him. “What are you going to do about your father? I’m sure he’s not going to be happy about this latest development.”

Arthur shrugged. “Honestly, I’m hoping that I’ll win an Olympic medal tomorrow so I can tell him where to stuff it. But, barring that, well…things have changed a lot since I was seventeen. Personally, I think Great Britain is ready to support an openly gay Olympian, don’t you?”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s _you_ , Arthur. Everybody loves you.”

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin.

“Just so long as you do,” he said with a smile.

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Arthur fished around in his duffel and extracted the key to their shared flat.

Merlin lounged against the doorframe. “Hey, Arthur?”

“Yeah?” Arthur responded distractedly as he inserted the key in the lock.

“If I win a medal tomorrow, can I tell your father to stuff it, too?” Merlin asked with a wicked grin.

Arthur bent over double and guffawed at the thought. “I think I’d pay to see that,” he admitted once he could breathe again. But moments later, Arthur’s chest felt tight at the thought of having to face his father, the team, the nation…

Merlin’s arms slid around him from behind and he rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “Shhhh,” he said in a stage whisper. “You’re thinking too loud.”

“Thinking too loud…” Arthur repeated, deadpan.

“Yep. Worrying too much like you always do. But I have a great remedy for that,” Merlin confided in Arthur’s ear, his lips accidentally on-purpose brushing against the sensitive skin.

Arthur shivered. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Merlin turned the key in the lock for Arthur and pushed the door to the flat open. “You’re going to take a shower…” his voice trailed off enticingly.

When Merlin didn’t continue, Arthur turned his head to look at him. “And?”

“And I’m going to attempt to suck your brain out through your cock. It’s a pretty effective treatment, if I do say so myself.”

“Merlin,” Arthur warned with a groan, even as he felt his dick twitch with interest at the idea.

“Oh, come on, Arthur,” he wheedled. “You don’t honestly think they’re going to bug the _bathrooms_ , do you?”

“They might do.”

“Yeah, all right, maybe…but they’d never be able to _admit it_ , so what’s the difference?”

Reluctantly, Arthur stepped forward out of Merlin’s arms and into the flat. “I don’t know, Merlin…” he said dubiously.

Merlin shoved the front door closed with one hip and dropped his bag. Then he draped himself against the door, well aware that his track suit flaunted his every swell and curve.

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur…” Merlin tsked, his lips forming a flirty moue. “We’re Olympians; taking risks is what we do. Live a little.”

Merlin looked up at Arthur through his lashes. Arthur had his eyes screwed shut as if trying to block out temptation and his mouth formed a thin grimace as if he were in physical pain.

“I’ll let you do it to me,” Merlin teased in a sing-song.

Arthur’s hands pulled into tight fists and he trembled where he stood.

“You know you want to.” Merlin pushed away from the door, closing the gap between them. He placed his wide palms against the smooth fabric of Arthur’s track suit, slipping slowly over his pectorals, across his shoulders, and down his arms.

When the tense line of Arthur’s back suddenly sagged in submission, Merlin knew he had won. The twist of Arthur’s smile was rueful, but when he opened his eyes to stare at Merlin, they positively twinkled with mischief. He leaned in so close to Merlin that their lips almost touched; almost, but not quite.

“Race you.”

OoOoO

 

Glossary of Luge Terminology:

**Paddling:** the act of pushing against the ice to build up speed at the beginning of a run. Sliders use special spiked gloves for this purpose.

 **Pod:** the fiberglass upper portion of a luge sled, specially designed for a specific rider and form fits from shoulder to knee.

 **Labyrinth:** a three-turn combination on a course with no straightaways in between.

 **Losing One's Head:** when a luge athlete cannot keep their head up in a high G-force turn. Sometimes the head goes all the way down to the ice.

 **Runner:** the steel blade(s) on a luge sled. They are the only parts that touch the ice.

 **Slider:** the proper term for a luge athlete (as opposed to 'luger').


End file.
